The Quest
by Dleet
Summary: The Dark has found a loophole to allow them back into the world. The Circle must reunite to stop them, with the help of a few friends and trouble from some new enemies as well...
1. The Reunion

Chapter One  
The Reunion

The woman convulsed on her bed. She knew what had happened to her. She knew when she'd eaten what would happen to her. But Fate was Fate, and the girl must come. The Pendragon was necessary, and it was her duty to give her life to the cause if need be. She'd endured worst pain than dying; all of her kind did.

Her eyes flew opened, fluttered. She had to hurry. They were gathered around, watching her die and helpless to do anything. If she had told them to help, perhaps they could have, but it was too late now. And she had one last thing to do. She couldn't die until she told them.

She took a deep shuddering breath. For a moment, she was afraid of how she could hear her breath echo loudly in her ears, but she pushed it aside. She _must_ do this. In a shaky voice, she said:

The Dark is rising  
The Seer will come  
You must move-

She took a deep breath, shaking. She was hot, cold, clammy, so many things that she almost wished she weren't right now. But it was her duty. It had to be done. Her job came responsibilities. Responsibilities that must be fulfilled if worse things were to be avoided.

Someone wiped the sweat off her brow. "Hie," she said softly. "You must bring the Pendragon."

The warning now. She was the only person left who knew of the Lost Prophecies. She must- Before she could control what was happening, breath was sucked into her lungs, nearly choking her. She coughed and gasped, but it was useless. And, as her eyelids fluttered crazily, she realized that she had never been meant to tell the rest. She would be the last to know the Lost Prophecies, know where the books were hidden. She heard the Voice. His Voice, calling to her softly, full of warmth and kindness, power and wisdom, sadness and happiness, all at once. She followed the Voice.

The people arranged in a circle around the woman's bed breathed again as she fell back on the pillows. A young man came forward, set apart by his still-brown hair, and the youth that hadn't yet passed. He looked seventeen or eighteen. He checked for the woman's breath, found none, and covered her with the sheets.

"Dead," he said. He looked away. The woman had been one of the best seers throughout Time, and she had been poisoned. And now, right before her death, she had predicted that yet another Seer would come. And the Pendragon. Bran.

He looked up to a man with a gray beard and gray hair, wrinkles of wisdom etched into his face. Already, he looked more youthful than he had since Will had come.

Merriman said softly, "We must move, hie."

The bearded man nodded. "Yes, My Lion. Will, you know Bran the best; take the sword to him. We must find the Seer."

* * *

Bran Davies was alone in the room, cleaning the chalkboard. He had just finished the student tutoring session. After his father had gotten a job as a preacher in the United States, they had moved here, and Bran had astonished his teachers by being so far ahead of the other students, even the foreign exchange students, who were required to be practically geniuses. Usually, he thought it was kind of funny that he could write English better than the Americans, but it lost its humor when he had to clean up afterwards.

Someone knocked on the door frame; the last kid who'd left had left the door open. Bran turned, half expecting a teacher demanding to know what he was doing in a classroom by himself, without any adult supervision. He'd already had to explain it to quite a few, but Mr. Petroff, the English teacher, had explained to him that there would probably always be more.

"Will!" he said, genuinely surprised. He hadn't seen Will since before he'd left for the US.

Will grinned at him and looked at the chalkboard. "Missed a spot," he said.

Bran turned. After a few seconds, he said, "I don't see a spot." When he turned back around, Will was holding something out to him. It was wrapped in a cloth sac.

Will shrugged. "I brought something for you. Thought you might need it." He handed it to Bran.

Bran let the sac cloth fall slowly away. The first thing he saw was the hilt of the sword. He touched it with his finger, and suddenly, slowly, he remembered. Before he had remembered too, but you couldn't learn what you already knew. Now he remembered it all again. "Eirias," he said softly. Eirias was his again, and he was once again the Pendragon. He looked at Will. "Well? Let's go home."

Will grinned. "Let's."

* * *

Clara was walking down the hallway when she felt it. The slight tickling on the back of her neck. So far, she'd only felt it once, but if she made this decision, it would either be her last time or the first of many. She stopped, causing her friend Jennifer, who had been walking too closely behind, to walk into her.

"What is it?" Jennifer asked.

"Oh, nothing. I just forgot a book in my locker. I'll be right back." Clara started walking the other way.

Jennifer shrugged. "Later." She started walking to the library.

The hallway was empty. It was after tutorials, and even a bunch of the teachers had left already. The only reason, well, logical reason, that Clara and Jennifer were there was that they were waiting for their friend Lauren to get out of Biology tutorials, which always ran late.

_Hurry._

Clara glanced around to make sure she was the only one and then ran down the hall. She dived into a classroom. Was this one the right one? Yes, it had to be. He wouldn't let her go into the wrong one. Not when it mattered so much to Him. She looked around. This was an English room for the upperclassmen. She'd seen it in her dream. This was the right one.

There was only one last thing to do, and then she would be acting on instincts, not her dream. She bit her lip and took a deep breath.

_Hurry._

She reached out, hesitated, and then let some force grab her wrist and pull it in the right direction. Something brushed against her fingers, stinging her wherever it touched. And then the stinging spread up her arm, covered her face. She was lucky she didn't scream. She hated screaming. But He said it would be okay, and trust was the only thing keeping her from what she felt sure would be losing her mind. And then, it stopped as if it had never happened.

* * *

It took her a few moments to recognize the shapes around her as faces. Her head hurt, pulsing. It felt like something repeatedly pounding against it. The world seemed to be spinning and she wasn't entirely sure she wasn't spinning with it. She felt the air rushing past her and something hard hit her back. Nothing else hit her, so she lay there panting.

She heard Bran ask, "Who are you?"

"Clara. Sophomore." She sat up slowly but was pushed back down. She dared to open her eyes again to see someone dabbing her forehead with a damp cloth. She tried to push the person away, but they knocked her hands away effortlessly. Finally, Clara let him dab away. She felt too tired to really do much of anything else.

"How did you get here?" another man asked. Clara looked at him. He had brown hair, a slightly boyish face, brown eyes. She wouldn't have been able to spot him in a crowd. He looked a few years older than her, probably Bran's age.

She closed her eyes. What was going on?

_Tell them._

I can't. They wouldn't understand. I can't handle it. I'm not brave enough.

There was no answer.

She murmured something unintelligible. Will and Bran looked at each other.

Merriman came in, leading a girl. Will saw the girl, Clara, peek a bit, still trying to appear asleep or close to it. She studied Merriman, quickly looked to Bran, then looked quickly at whom Bran was looking at.

Clara slowly took in the girl's looks. Raven-black hair, pale skin, perfect posture. She knew without a doubt that this was the most beautiful woman she ever had or ever would see. Then she saw the girl's eyes, and words flooded her mind. _Liar... Fall... Dill... Liar... Valse... Teal... Liar..._

She lay back, closing her eyes. Her mind screamed in pain as words and bright flashes of light and pictures passed through, too quickly for her to grasp.

"Bran, Will, I'd like you to meet Isabella de Francis, a seer. Isabella, these are Will and Bran." Merriman looked at the girl on the floor. "But who's this?" he asked Will.

"Her name is Clara," Will said, meeting Merriman's eyes.

"She followed us through the barrier," Bran added.

"How?" Merriman asked.

"She won't say."

Isabella walked over gracefully to Clara, dismissing the Old One's apprentice with a wave of her hand as she studied the girl. Clara was keeping her eyes closed tightly and clenching her fists so tightly that her nails were digging into her palms.

"What's next?" Bran asked.

Merriman looked to Isabella. "We were hoping the Seer could tell us."

Bran nodded. Isabella didn't seem to be paying attention; she was still kneeling next to Clara. "How did you know to bring us here. The Dark was destroyed, I thought."

Merriman shook his head. "We're all immortal. We can never be completely destroyed. We cast the Dark out of Time. People can find their way back out of Time, but it takes Time and luck. We think the Dark fixed something so they could come back as a whole after resting at a certain point in Time. The Time, it appears, is now. Another seer, before she died, said, 'The Dark will rise. The Seer will come. You must move, hie. Bring forth the Pendragon.' So we knew to bring you, and Isabella arrived here a few minutes ago saying she'd felt we might need her help."

"So when do we go?" Bran asked. "Mount Everest is the highest."

"'High'" Will said, "as in 'height.' Now 'hie' as in 'hurry.'"

A clear voice interrupted them. "Complete the Circle. With the Six we climb the mountain-" They look at Isabella, who was kneeling, holding Clara's hand gently, staring at seemingly nothing.

Suddenly, Clara sat up, her eyes slightly fogged. "NO!" she yelled.

Isabella shrieked and jumped back, her words forgotten.

Clara's eyes quickly came back into focus. When she saw Isabella, she jumped back, kicking and screaming. Isabella jumped up, taking refuge behind Bran. Will quickly grabbed Clara, pinning her down until she stopped struggling. Being the youngest of seven children had its perks. Clara finally stopped struggling, asleep.

Will picked her up. "I'll take her to the infirmary," he said.

Merriman followed him out.

Once they'd left, Isabella flashed a beaming smile at Bran. "Thank you," she said. "Could we talk? I need to get home, but could we talk while you show me out?"

"Want me to walk you home?"

"No, thank you." She started leading the way to the front door. Bran, not familiar with the layout, followed.

Isabella turned to him as they walked down a hallway with numerous tapestries. "Do you like it here, Pendragon?" she asked with a grin.

"So far."

"I'm glad you came. "Your father will be glad to see you."

"I'll be glad to see him," Bran said as they arrived at the front door. He opened it.

She walked past him, smiling. "Soon, Pendragon."

"Soon," Bran agreed. He closed the door once she was out of sight.

"Bran!" a voice called.

Bran looked and grinned. It had been years, but he still remembered the voice. It was one of the few things he had never forgotten. "Da!" Bran hugged him. "It's good to see you."

"Likewise. Come. I'll show you to your room." As Bran walked down the hall with his father, he marveled at how he could feel so at home in a place he'd never been to before.

* * *

Clara knew he was watching her before she opened her eyes. Everyone knew when people were staring at them, especially when the person was doing it with such force.

"Who is she?" Clara asked.

"Who?"

Clara opened her eyes and looked up at Merriman, who was standing beside the bed. _Too tall,_ she thought. "Isabella."

Merriman sat down in the chair next to her bed. "Isabella de Francis is seventeen. Five years ago, her village was raided; she lived in another country back then, where raids were common. Her parents died in the battle, and Isabella was left hiding by the river. She tried to swim away when she realized they'd lost the battle, but somehow something got wrapped around her ankle. She almost drowned. She says she heard a voice, and ever since, she'd been growing in popularity and strength. She's one of the greatest seers around."

"It was His voice," Clara said softly.

"What?"

"It was His voice," Clara said more loudly so he could hear.

"How do you know?" Merriman asked.

"He said she was a liar. He said it over and over." She closed her eyes, trying to remember exactly what He'd said. Her brow wrinkled in concentration. "He said, 'Liar, Fall, Dill, Liar, Valse, Teal, Liar."

Another voice said, almost immediately, "Liar, False, Deal."

Clara turned to see Bran's friend standing next to the wall. He smiled at her. "Hello, Clara. I'm Will, and that's Merriman."

She continued looking at him. So they were suddenly nice? No sooner had she thought this than she realized that they knew she was a seer as well. She quickly changed the subject. "Dow did you know what He said?" she asked. "I thought He was talking about blue-tinted pickles that talked."

Will grinned. "You'll learn. He had them in a pattern. All you had to do was figure it out."

"Oh." She digested what he'd said. "Wait a minute. What do you mean, 'You learn'?"

"I know someone who may be able to help you learn."

"Speaking of whom," Merriman cut in, "you'd better go pick them up.

Will nodded. "Soon," he said to Clara. He walked out of the room.

* * *

Isabella de Francis was at that moment busy pacing in her library, walking quickly back and forth on a thick carpet, oblivious to the numerous books on the shelves. The candlelight was dim, complimenting the dark red chairs and dark-colored polished wood. "I came to you, asking for your help," she said. "I agreed to help you in exchange, help you by getting on the inside, finding out what they're planning. And now you tell me you can no longer keep your end of the bargain." She stopped at the end of the imaginary line, her skirt making a soft rustling sound. "You have failed me," she said simply.

"We have not failed you, Lady. We are looking for the prophecies both day and night." The man sat in one of the dark red chairs comfortably, wearing a black cloak and watching the girl pace and patronize him. Pity the Dark still needed her. When she was no longer required, the man would be the first to kill her.

"I don't see you searching for them," she said with a sniff.

"I came to check on the recent developments, Lady." He'd have to run awfully fast in order to reach her to kill her first, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be too hard.

"Recent developments?" Isabella scowled. "I'll tell you about 'recent developments!' A girl came with the Pendragon; she wasn't supposed to. She is also a seer, quite possibly the Seer. She'd ruin everything." She suddenly looked thoughtful. "I want her dead."

"Consider it done." The man left. He stood on the front porch. Even if the girl was a nuisance, they still needed her. He resigned himself to the fact and sighed. He began making plans as he pulled his hood over his head.

* * *

Jane knew this was going to be one of her more trying lunches with her brothers. Every Saturday the three had lunch on their own, without their parents, to just act like brothers and sister together, now that they all went to different schools and all. Simon pulled up to the curb in what perhaps laughingly could have been called a car. Jane wrinkled her nose when she remembered he'd just come from football practice. She hoped he'd clean up and change before lunch. Last time, she'd sat downwind of him. She was never going to do that again.

Jane climbed into the back seat next to Barney's canvas and art box and looked at his latest painting. He hadn't drawn or painted everything, but Jane could still see, almost as if it was real, a land with dark green grass bathing in sunshine. She looked to the passenger seat, where Barney was looking at her expectantly. "It's nice," she said.

Barney sighed and turned back around. "You always say that."

"Don't worry about it," Simon told him distractedly as he pulled away from the curb. "Jane doesn't understand art."

Jane sighed and looked out the window. It was going to be one of those days. "Practice went that well, did it?"

"Worse than that well," Simon admitted with a lopsided grin. "Want to see my most recent battle wounds?"

She made a face as he parked easily on a nearly deserted street. "No, thank you," she said. "Not before eating."

"After lunch then," Simon said. He grinned at Barney and climbed out of the car before Jane could object.

Jane saw him as soon as she got out of the car. She smiled and waved. "Will! What are you doing here?"

Will smiled and walked over to them. By this time, Simon and Barney were standing on the sidewalk, and Jane had joined them. When Will reached them, he said, "Hoping to see you, actually. Merriman sent me to fetch you."

Jane's face fell. "That isn't funny, Will."

Will looked at her calmly and patiently and made to move to take his comment back.

"You know Gumerry died a long time ago," Simon said as gently and as firmly as he could.

Barney was the only one who seemed completely receptive of the news. "When?" he asked.

"Barney!" Jane exclaimed, shocked.

Barney and Will looked at each other, and both decided not to say anything. Chances were that Jane would just get more upset

"Preferably now," Will said. He looked at Simon, his brown eyes pleading. "Simon..." If Simon said no, it was quite possible he'd lose all of them.

Simon sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. They came away damp; he was still sweaty from practice. If Gumerry was... No. He couldn't think that. But Will had never lied... And they'd never found Gumerry's body. And he'd always felt... He sighed again. "All right."

Jane glared at him as if he'd betrayed her.

"Hold on," Will said.

Jane closed her eyes, dreading what was going to happen. Poor Will. He'd never acted like this before...

When she opened her eyes, she was no longer on the sidewalk. She was facing a stone wall with a rich tapestry of silver unicorns in moonlight drinking from a lake. She stared at it in shock. How had it gotten there?

Will smiled at her and gently turned her around by her shoulders. "You're facing the wrong way, Jane."

And then Jane saw him. He was the same as he'd always been, with the nose jutting out of his face like a hawk's beak and the white silver hair and he was tall as he had ever been.

"Gumerry!" she shouted. Simon and Barney had also shouted, but Jane was the first to hug him. She held him tight until Merriman had to pull her away, laughing.

"I do need air, you know," he joked. He grew serious and bent over to look them in the eyes. "Are you three ready for business?"

"What business?" Simon asked, excited but serious.

Merriman looked to Will. "You didn't tell them?" he asked.

Will shook his head. "I figured you ought to be the one to do that."

Merriman nodded. "Very well." He waved his hand in front of the three with a dismissive air. They blinked.

"The Dark is back?" Simon demanded, angry. "I thought we-"

"Come," Merriman said. "We've got a lot of catching up to do. And Barney, I think you may have a pupil."

Barney nodded. "The girl. I saw her just a while ago. Her?"

Merriman nodded and smiled at him proudly. "You're better."

Barney grinned. "I've been practicing," he admitted.

Jane gaped at him. "You never told me."

Barney shrugged.

Merriman looked at them all, and after a moment of silence said, "Simon, you look like a ragamuffin, but never mind. Right now, we have other matters to discuss."

Copyright 2001. Hope you liked it! More's coming up soon!  
Love ya,  
Dleet


	2. The Plan

Chapter Two

  


The Plan

Catherine walked down the hallway, shoving two strands of golden brown hair out of her face. Why did people have to learn Algebra, anyway? Well, Algebra II, but it didn't matter. In the long run it was still pointless. She knelt next to her locker. The only good thing about her locker was that it was on the end, next to a classroom. As long as she didn't hit the locker on top of hers or get trampled by the kids coming out of the classroom, she had nothing to worry about. Especially since the classroom was no empty and the teacher on planning period.

She set her books to the side and worked at her lock. It had broken a few weeks ago, and since it still worked, she hadn't gotten a new one. All she had to do was pick it. Sighing, she stuck a bent-out-of-shape paper clip in the hole at the bottom and closed her eyes so she could feel the minute clicks. On the second click, she opened her eyes as she realized she was moving in time to see the door fly past her.

She landed hard on her back on the floor of the classroom and heard the door close quickly behind her. She hadn't even heard it open. Catherine frowned and was about to reprimand him when a heavy hand covered her mouth, the other hand tightening on her arm. Pain shot through it, from the fingertips to the shoulder blade. The person shoved her head down onto the floor until she felt as if her head were glued there.

She looked at it. If this was one of the sophomores playing a trick on her, they were going to get the surprise of their lives!

Instead, she was the one on the receiving end of the surprise. She hadn't seen him in over a year, and he looked even worse than he had before. He was tall and so stocky that he bordered fat. Apparently, the "fat" was muscle now. His black hair was even sloppier, his green-gray eyes even darker. His sneer more liable to get slapped off as soon as she could get a hand free. Right now, though, she'd fallen on top of them.

"Hello, Cat," Daniel said.

Cat glared at him. She knew better than to try and talk; it would only come out as mumbling and give him an invitation to laugh at her.

"Breathe, Cat." He moved his and so that it covered both her mouth and nose.

It was then that she realized it wasn't only his hand, but also a cloth that was covering her face. A damp cloth.

Eventually she had to breathe. And she couldn't remember anything that happened after that.

* * *

"So a seer told you to bring us here?" Simon asked. They were all gathered in huge library. It had already been explained tat the house was a mix of all times, where only Old Ones and a few other trusted allies could go. Although the place had no electricity, there were hundreds of candles, books, a harp (which Bran was studying), a piano and harpsichord, comfortable seats, a large desk with several rolled-up parchments around it, and the library was just a fraction of the size of every other room in the house.

Merriman nodded. He and Arthur were both standing, though Merriman was leaning against the piano. "We have two seers," he said looking to Clara. Clara pouted and sank farther into her chair.

Barney, who had been admiring the room from the second floor, suddenly jumped up when he saw Clara. "You're the one!" he said. "I'm supposed to teach you!"

"Do you even know how?" Clara said miserably.

"Sure, I do. I've been taking lessons from a bunch of different people. Ask me anything."

"Do you think this Isabella de Francis girl is fake?" Clara asked.

Barney looked at her oddly and cocked his head a bit as if listening to something. His eyes grew clearer at last, and he said, "Yes, I do. They don't seem pleased with her."

"What's wrong with Isabella?" Bran asked, paying full attention to the conversation at last.

Will, the only person besides Jane who had not spoken in the room, caught a glance from Merriman and said, "Clara heard a voice say that Isabella was a liar, had made a deal, and was false."

"Really?" Bran asked. He looked at her speculatively. "A voice?"

Clara nodded, even more miserable.

Barney, coming down the stairs, gave her an sympathetic look and said softly, "There's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Plenty of people hear It."

Clara looked at him, unconvinced.

"Tell me, Clara, what's my dog's name?" Bran asked clearly.

"You don't have one. You never got another dog after Cafall," she answered promptly.

Bran nodded. "Who am I?"

"The Pendragon."

Bran looked at her and finally grinned. "Knew something was wrong," he said, mostly to himself. "So Isabella has made a deal with the Dark, you think?"

Will nodded.

"Then why hasn't Eirias- Ah. She isn't of the Dark officially."

"Yes," his father said. "We are almost positive she is being used as a spy against us."

Bran considered this and finally nodded. "So we'll just turn the tables and use her against them in the same way."

"How so?" Arthur asked, beginning to grin.

"Easy. First, give her misinformation. The second thing will be harder. Get her to trust us enough that she'll confide in us and tell us what the Dark is doing."

"Wouldn't it be just as easy for the Dark to use her for misinformation?" Simon asked.

"Not if they don't know," Bran said.

Everyone thought about his proposition for a while. Arthur finally moved and sat down next to Will. "Any objections?" he asked.

No one said anything. A few shook their heads. Will stared straight in front of him. If Bran got carried away... Will could tell Bran liked her, and he wasn't sure how Bran would act. He stayed silent.

Arthur finally nodded. "Since you are closest to her, Bran, why don't you try to make her trust you?"

Bran nodded. "I will."

"Good," Merriman said. "Now, another thing..."

"Sorry to interrupt, Gumerry," Jane said quickly. "But I have just one question. Who's Isabella?"

Merriman grinned and explained while Will and Arthur filled Simon and Bran in on exactly how the Dark had managed to come back at full power after so long. Barney worked to try to get Clara to admit she could hear the Voice.

They didn't resurface from planning and studying until dinner, when it was decided they would leave in the morning.

* * *

Catherine, for once in her life, was glad she carried around paper clips to pick locks in her pocket. Most of the other girls in the room with her had never seen handcuffs before, and Daniel had probably figured she wouldn't know the first thing about them. Well, that was his bad luck. It took a little doing and a lot of patience, but she'd finally gotten them off. The manacles had been child's play. It was as if the person who had made them didn't know what locks were.

After she was done, she found person by person in the dark with her hands. She worked to set each one loose. She was surprised when some of them actually asked to stay.

"He'll do awful things to us if we try to leave," she whispered.

Catherine whispered back, "Not if you succeed."

"And if not?"

"And if we don't succeed, I'll take the blame."

"That won't stop him."

"It ought to. Because as soon as he messes with me, I'm taking him down."

"What?"

"I'm taking him down," Catherine repeated firmly.

"What does that mean?"

"Beating him to a pulp the size of a robin's egg and then squashing it beneath my feet so all the yoke spills out."

"Oh."

She soon learned that this wasn't the only girl who didn't know what language meant. There were some who spoke an old form of English, some who spoke another language entirely, and some who just stayed where they were, whimpering if they had to make any noise at all.

They've been broken, she realized. He was trying to break them. He's trying to break _me._ The thought made her angry. When she found the door, she yanked it open. She didn't bother to let the light hurt her eyes. She squinted and saw a guard on either side. They gaped as she stepped out. She kicked one in the stomach and tried to kick the other in the same move. He blocked it with his spear. She grabbed the spear from the other guard and sighed in relief. She was much better at fighting when she only had to kick, but she didn't know how to throw proper punches. She felt much better when she could use her arms' strength without punching.

She called to the others behind to hurry up, but none came. She bit her lip as she wondered why and blocked the guard's staff. The other one was getting up now. She stopped wondering and concentrated solely on fighting.

Twenty minutes later, someone had finally managed to pen her to a wall. She panted, exhausted and a bit relieved that it was finally over. When four more had shown up, she'd begun to doubt her chances. When they'd all attacked at once and blows had gotten through again and again, and then two more had shown up, she'd known she wouldn't make it.

"On the bright side," said one of the guards as he sat down heavily, "she'll fetch a great price once she's broken in."

"What do you mean, a 'great price?'" Catherine snapped. "You mean this is a whorehouse or something?"

A few of the men laughed. "No, girl. People these days want obedient slaves. So Daniel goes around, takes girls such as yourself, and, uh, trains them to be proper slaves."

One of them looked her in the eye, his face inches from hers, and said gruffly, "Welcome to the slave trade."

* * *

"You're kidding," Simon said. "We have to cross over that pass over there?" He pointed into the distance, where the pass between two cliffs was merely a thin line, nearly invisible.

"Don't worry," Will said. "It'll be fun."

"Like those high-action games on TV," Barney added.

Simon frowned. "Only without safety equipment."

"How are we going to get to the pass?" Jane asked. "It belongs to the castle there, doesn't it?"

Bran nodded. "The guys and I will go and ask for passage through."

Simon looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "What about Jane?" he asked.

"To be honest, I'd rather Jane not go."

"Why?" Simon turned to face Bran.

"It's rumored that there's a slave trade going on there. Someone kidnaps young women and sells them to people who are willing to pay the price."

"I don't mind, Simon," Jane said. "I think I'd rather stay here, actually."

Simon nodded and turned back to the castle, studying it.

Clara turned away from it. She didn't like how it looked or how it felt.

"How long before we get there?" Barney asked.

"About an hour," Bran said. "We'll head out again as soon as we get permission."

After a few more minutes of rest, everyone got up again and headed out.

* * *

"Well," Catherine said dryly, "I'm glad you could see me on such short notice."

"If you hadn't tried to break out," Daniel retorted, "I wouldn't have had to have seen you at all."

"I know exactly how you feel," Catherine said. "Except twice that." She was standing in front of Daniel, where he sat in a large hard-looking chair that resembled a throne. A large table was on either side of him, with people sitting behind them scribbling things down. People were lining either side of the hall behind her, and meanwhile, she stood there with her hands tied with twine in front of her. It would take a whole lot more patience to get out of twine.

"Do you?" Daniel said, somewhat amused. "You of course know why you're here."

Catherine nodded. "You aim to break me so I'll be more docile and then you can sell me off to some rich indush." She smiled at the people on the side of the room and frowned at Daniel. No one had to know that she'd made the word up.

Daniel didn't bother asking what it meant; he knew better. "So, you fought with my guards, I see. They aren't pleased with you. You broke someone's nose, and another hasn't woken up yet."

The audience gaped at her.

Catherine shrugged modestly. "I guess I'm just better than they."

"Which is how you're still here," Daniel said with an amused smile. He leaned forward. "Cat, I have to be honest with you. You're one of the most independent people I've ever known. You're smart. You fight well. You're loyal." His voice became harsh. "But I will break you and sell you for all you're worth."

Catherine faced the crowd, her audience. "Who wants to buy me for free?" she asked. She knew what Daniel was up to. He was trying to flatter her and then tell her she was nothing at all. She'd beat him to it.

She was facing the doors when a group of boys and two men came in. One was tall with white hair, another was shorter, but still tall with brown hair that was turning gray. One of the boys seemed to have no color at all, the boy next to him had brown hair, and the two next to them, one taller and one shorter, both had blond hair.

"Who are you?" Daniel demanded.

They introduced themselves. At this point, Catherine wasn't sure if she was hearing right. It seemed that one of them had called himself King Arthur. She turned back to Daniel, who was only half paying attention to her. As the others introduced themselves, though, she realized that no one was paying attention to her at all.

She started creeping away. She made it as far as the line of people before a man looked at the distracting person and shouted something unintelligible. She quickly made a grab for his sword, grabbed it, found it wouldn't come out of its sheath, kicked him, and undid the sheath while he was lying on the ground. In seconds, she was up again, holding the sword in Daniel's direction.

"Get her!" Daniel commanded. "Lock all the doors." He turned to someone at his side and spoke softly, but Catherine was running to Daniel and was close enough to make out what was said. "And destroy the Light."

Then she struck Daniel with the sword as hard as she could. She didn't know how to use a sword properly; she was positive she wasn't doing too well. He parried easily and got up to fight her.

It was then that all hell broke loose.

_I hope you like it! I finally gave up writing everything in my notebook since most of it's in my head anyway, and I go a lot faster this way. If you see any typos, please let me know. I'll have the next part up soon, hopefully._

Love ya,  
Dleet


	3. The Escape

_Copyright 2001. Don't worry. Catherine isn't a self-insertion, and she won't be stealing the show. Enjoy!_

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Chapter Three

  


The Escape

Luckily, Catherine didn't have to try to use the sword on Daniel again. Not right then, anyway. A member of the audience, a man with a potbelly, made a run at Daniel, screaming something in a language she couldn't understand.

Normally she would have run. Normally. But now she had things to see to, the fifteen or so girls in the dungeon, for one thing. She wasn't going to leave them to be sold into slavery. And, seeing as how she knew what it was like to be broken, she didn't want them to be broken as well.

So I guess it's truly do or die, she thought with a small grin. The fighting had spread once someone had shouted something about light. She saw the men on the other side of the room fighting as well. They weren't only holding their own; they were pressing forward, toward her and Daniel.

Grinning, she noticed that the people at the tables on either side of Daniel had left and were running, scared out of their wits, from the room, leaving their papers behind. She quickly gathered them up and shoved her way through the crowd, holding the papers to her chest. The people lining the walls had started fights of their own, settling their own personal disputes. She dodged their blows to each other until she reached her goal.

"Follow me," she said. Without waiting, she led the way.

* * *

They all tensed as they heard someone shout "Down with the Light!" Too fast for the eye to see, Excalibur jumped into Arthur's hand, and Bran wasn't far behind with Eirias. Simon looked at Gumerry, nervous. "Gumerry," he said, about to point out that he and Barney had no weapons.

Merriman nodded, intent on a man in merchants' garb who was approaching warily. "Behind me," he ordered. Simon and Barney agreed and ducked behind him, just in time to see someone close the door they had come through. The air seemed to shimmer around it for a second and then solidified, making the door look as imposing as a wall of sudden stone.

Barney shivered. "He is of the Dark," he said.

"So he is," Bran agreed, watching blue light race through Eirias out of the corner of his eye. And then someone attacked, leading the rest. After that, everything was a flurry of blocking blows and attacking. No one had to say to search for another exit- they all knew they needed one. And then, the girl, the one they'd seen standing before Daniel, had made it through to them.

"Follow me," she ordered. She promptly turned and started walking away.

Bran looked to his father and shrugged. The girl hadn't seemed to be a friend of Daniel's. And she probably knew a way out better than they. Bran followed.

She led them to the entrance of a small hallway, hidden in the upper left-hand corner of the hall. The girl held it open while they backed up, still fighting the people who were attacking. Bran was the first through, then Will. Merriman gave Barney and Simon a slight push through before coming in himself. Arthur, the last, locked the door. Merriman added a bit of magic to keep it up.

"Now what?" Barney asked as people on the other side pounded on the door and shouted.

The girl grinned. She was hugging papers to her chest. "This way. We need to make a stop, and then we can find a way out."

"You don't know a way out?" Bran asked.

"Did I say that?"

"You just did."

"I did no such thing." She ran, forcing the others to run behind her. She stopped suddenly at a large door. "No guards," she muttered. "Is that a good sign, or a bad one?"

She tried to shove open the door. It didn't budge, and she was unfamiliar with the lock. They were better with locks than she'd suspected. She knew from experience that it wasn't so heavy that she couldn't open it. She turned around and leaned against the door. "I don't suppose one of you could help me?" she asked.

"Why?" Bran asked.

"This is where Daniel kept the other girls," Catherine explained. She studied their faces, all of which were impassive. "Look, I know. They'll slow us down. Most of them are nearly completely broken anyway. But I can't just leave them here. They didn't ask for this." Still no change. "Please?" she asked again. "If you help me get them out, I'll take care of them. All of them. You can leave without us all, if you like. I don't care. But I at least need to give them a chance. Please?"

With a sigh, Arthur passed her worked at the lock.

"You know how to pick locks?" Bran asked in disbelief.

"Doesn't everybody?" Arthur retorted.

The door open, Catherine shoved through. "They're all chained again, I think," she called back as she went down the stairs. "Could you guys give me some help?"

"Again?" Bran asked quietly so she couldn't hear, exasperated. He called to the girl, "What if it's a trap?" He was more than surprised when Barney darted through the door and down the stairs first.

"Gumerry," Simon said quickly as he followed quickly.

Following them down the stairs, Arthur said softly to Bran, "You need to learn to tell when people are telling the truth."

Bran made a face but said, "Yes, sir."

They quickly released all the girls, and Arthur, Merriman, Will, and Barney gave them pep talks to get them moving. Simon listened to what they were doing and tried to help when he could. Bran and Catherine were left to talk.

"Why aren't you helping?" Catherine demanded.

"Because," Bran said simply.

"Because what?"

"I don't really know how to do stuff like that," Bran said angrily, glaring at her. "Why aren't _you_ helping, if you're so, 'We must help them' and all?"

"Because I don't know stuff like that either!" Catherine retorted.

Merriman silenced them with a look, and they looked away from each other.

"Name's Catherine," she finally whispered.

"Bran."

"Real pleasure to meet you, Bran. Under the circumstances. You a friend of Daniel's?"

"No. You?"

"No. So I guess, in a way, we're allies, right?"

"Not really."

"We'd better be. Or else none of us are getting out of here."

"Meaning?"

"I think I know a way out," she said proudly.

"Where?"

"Not telling until they're all okay."

"Tell me now," Bran said.

"Nope."

"Now," Bran said coldly and with command.

Catherine looked at him. What was he, kidding? "I won't tell you at all if you use that tone with me," she said, raising her chin. "I don't take kindly to pompous jerk-off types."

Will's glare at her positively withered. She stared right back at him, refusing to be intimidated.

Once all the girls were gathered and at least able to walk and follow them, Arthur said to Catherine, "Do you really know a way out?"

"No."

"So you lied," Bran said.

"Yes. I figured you wouldn't believe me anyway."

"Are you lying now?" Arthur asked.

Catherine shook her head. "You I like. Him I don't."

Arthur nodded, amused, and took the lead. He led them down hallway after hallway, checking room after room, until Catherine had lost track of what was going on. She fell back to walk with Barney and Simon. "Thanks," she said to Barney. "I don't think they would have helped if you hadn't come down."

Barney grinned at her. "They would have. Just not fast enough. That's all."

"Thanks," Catherine said again.

Finally, Arthur opened a door and went inside. "Master bedroom," he explained as everyone came in after him. "All master bedrooms have a way out, a secret passageway or something. Split up and find it."

It was Will who found it, when he spotted a stone in the fireplace where the soot was smeared. He pressed it, and the large back wall of the fireplace swung open. "Found it," he said.

"Good job," Merriman said as he came up behind Will.

Catherine shook her head. "Just like Daniel. No imagination whatsoever."

"Be thankful," Arthur said. "It makes it easier to get out."

"I'm thankful he's stupid and all," Catherine admitted, "but I'm not thankful I know him."

Arthur and Merriman led the way through the passage, with the girls, so far nameless, behind them. Catherine stayed with them, urging them on, trying to encourage them, while Barney and Simon stayed behind them, doing the same (although doing a better job at it). Will and Bran brought up the rear.

They regrouped with the others once they got out, explaining what had happened. They decided to cross the pass at nightfall, when there was less chance of their getting caught.

Arthur and Merriman taught Will and Bran how to fight with swords, knives, and fists while instructing them in politics. Barney dragged Clara over to the edge of the clearing, where he tried to make her admit she had powers. Simon and Jane saw to the girls, all of whom had promptly fallen down on the ground as soon as it was safe. Catherine shot the girls a look of disgust, rolled over, and took a nap.

And so they waited.

* * *

The trip over the pass wasn't nearly as terrifying as Simon had expected. It was ten feet wide, and he and many others (there number was now around sixty-five) were careful not to walk too close. On the other side, after a curve in the mountain, they found an inn. Although Catherine protested, they arranged for all the girls to stay there. The Old Ones and the other members of the Circle continued for half the night until they found a suitable place for camping.

"Not much longer," Bran said, looking up at the top of the mountain. It was the highest mountain in Wales in this time, and there was no Grey King here.

"Careful what you say," Will said. "You never know what tomorrow may bring."

Bran nodded. "Right."

They settled down to sleep.

* * *

Catherine, however, was awake long after they'd fallen sleep, staring out the window. All the other girls were behind her- they'd all wanted to be in one room because they felt so much safer. Catherine turned to study them. They'd be all right, most of them. Some would need more time to become what they once were, but she'd already managed to pick fights with two of the older ones. Zara and Katrina were actually doing a lot better and taking charge a bit more. It hadn't taken them long to get out of it, and Catherine had spotted signs late in the evening in the others that they were also getting better.

Sighing, knowing she'd never get to sleep, she gathered up the papers she'd stolen, found a sack to shove them in, and went downstairs to study them. In the candlelight of what she referred to as "the lobby," she was disappointed. It took her longer than she would have liked to get used to the extravagant flourishes. All of the papers had been handwritten, and each writer had his own handwriting with its own flourishes.

The candle flickered.

She looked up and then looked to the door to glare at whoever had caused her light to waver. She and Daniel took in each other at the same time, but Catherine reacted faster. She had to admit, one factor in her quickness was fear, but at least she had enough sense to grab all the papers. She ran out the back door, hearing Daniel shouting orders to get her behind her.

They're after the papers, she thought as the ran out the back. I need to keep the papers away from them. She looked up and down the road. Down would be so much easier- for her as well as for them. She ran up the mountain path instead. She'd have to reach the others. They have swords, she reasoned. They've got swords, and they know this place better than I do.

As she ran, she shoved the papers in her sack and prayed Daniel and his minions were going in the opposite direction.

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_I need feedback- please. I woke up with the beginnings of a cold yesterday, and today, after three hours of sleep, my throat is burning as if someone poured down kerosene followed by a lit match. So please- gimme criticism so I have something to do tonight when I can't get to sleep. The only good thing about not being able to swallow very well is that I've written the next few chapter to this. Up in a few minutes, I think._

Thanks,  
Dleet


	4. The Hollow Mountain

_Copyright 2001_

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Chapter Four

  


The Hollow Mountain

For the first time since she'd been waiting for Simon to pick her up- only two days ago?- Jane was alone. They'd found a small river- not too fast- surrounded by trees on one side and a cliff on the other. Clara had already bathed hurriedly, checking to make sure that Jane would be all right on her own before she left.

Jane grinned and thought back to the conversation they'd had. Clara had wanted to know everything about Barney. Could he keep secrets? How long had he been hearing or Seeing things? Was he trustworthy? How powerful was he? Did he really know as much as he claimed? Jane had done her best to answer all the questions, and by the time the conversation was done, Clara had put her T-shirt on backwards and was making her way to camp. Jane had to call her back to tell her, Clara had quickly changed so the shirt was all right, and then she'd run off again.

Isabella, the only other woman on the trip, had only washed her face and hands and dipped her hair in, saying she had a deep fear of water, and had left.

Jane sighed and climbed out of the water. She started getting dressed.

* * *

Simon and Barney were talking when Clara rushed up to them. Clara went immediately to Barney and whispered, "If I told you I was different, would you tell anyone else?"

Barney grinned and said, "I'd leave that to you. You decide when you're ready. Do you mind?" he asked Simon.

Simon grinned and shook his head. Barney had been worrying about what to do with Clara for a while now.

On the way to a corner of the clearing, Will stopped Clara. "Where's Jane?" he asked.

Clara shrugged. "She's still bathing."

"You left her alone?"

"She said it was okay."

Will nodded and let them go. "Stay in camp," he called after them. Barney nodded.

Will looked around and found Merriman, who was also looking grim. "They're getting closer," Will said, "and Jane's down at the river. I'm going to go get her, all right? If you have to leave, do it. We'll catch up."

Merriman nodded.

Arthur gave orders for everything to be packed up and moved.

Will got out of camp seconds before Daniel arrived, but by then, everything and everyone else were gone too.

* * *

"Jane?" Will asked softly. He moved aside a few branches, went forward, asked again.

Jane gasped and whirled around, holding her sneakers in one hand, socks in the other. "Will! What are you doing here!" she asked. "Do you know how close you came to-"

Will nodded. "I know, I know. Never mind. Forgive me and all that. The Dark was coming into camp. Hurry."

Jane nodded and sat down, hastily pulling on her socks and sneakers. "Are the guys all right? And Gumerry?"

"Simon and Barney are fine. They're protected by the Light, remember? Same as you."

"Then why are you here to protect me?" Jane asked.

"They're fine, you're fine," Will said. "I'm here to make sure you can get to camp. Now come on."

Jane nodded and stood up.

"YOU!" came a shouted from above them. "Here!"

Hardly thinking, Will grabbed Jane's hand and dragged her into the water. As soon as they were floating away, he said a spell so both he and Jane would be protected and dove underwater, dragging her down with him. Above them, he watched arrows hit the surface and then fall gracefully, losing speed, down the river, dragging small bubbles behind them.

The explosion was what made Jane scream. It was at least twenty feet behind them, but it first shoved them away in a great wave and then sucked them back again. Will held tight to Jane's hand to make sure they didn't get separated. Another one hit a few seconds later, in front of them. This time, Jane didn't scream, but she held Will's hand with both of her own, preparing for the wave that would try to separate them.

And then, both she and Will realized that their direction was changing. They were going to the cliff. Will was the first to realize they were falling and thought wildly, It's the mountain. It's _hollow._ He struggled and got Jane so she would land on him. He could take more than she could; he was immortal, after all. He'd probably get bruised. Jane could get much worse.

He hit the floor hard, and knew as he watched bright, small balls of light spin around him that he'd hit his head. Jane landed on him a split second later with an "Uumph." Will got the air knocked out of him incredibly well. He rolled over weakly, and Jane rolled over as well.

"Will?" she asked. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Will gasped. "You?"

"Fine, thanks."

Will nodded, realized she couldn't see since things were so dark, and muttered something that sounded affirmative enough as he put his head between his knees.

"Now what?" Jane asked, worried.

"We have to get out of here, that's what," Will said. He stood up and nearly fell. He caught himself as the mountain seemed to sway, back and forth.

"Will?" Jane asked as she stood up. Through the hole in the cliff above them, daylight was coming through. Not much, but enough for her to see Will stumbled. Water was spilling through as well. She caught him and pulled one of his arms around her shoulder. "We'll have to rest, first. You can't do much walking for a while. Let's get out of this waterfall, shall we?" She tried her best to sound cheery.

Will muttered something, but she couldn't quite tell what it was.

Oh, Gumerry, Jane thought. I wish you were here.

* * *

"Will? Jane?" Bran whispered. He shook his head and leaned against the mountain's cliff. This mountain seemed to have a lot of cliffs. Bran was beginning to hate mountains.

He heard something in the bushes and practically ripped Eirias out of its sheath. Just great, he thought. They'd left shortly after Will and had hidden in the woods silently, until they'd deemed it safe to move again. By that time, Will and Jane should have been back long before, and Bran had gone to go to search for them. His father had wanted to send a small party with him, but Bran had insisted he was better on his own.

But he wasn't better in a fight.

And then, suddenly, Catherine leaped out of the bushes and ran for him. "Finally!" she said. She tackled him in a bear hug, surprising both of them. What surprised them more was that they heard a loud crash and then they were falling.

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_Hope you liked it! Please review! I think I'm proud of this one, and the next is even better. I'm now on Chapter Six, and that one's even better than the fifth! Being sick has it's upsides- concentrating solely on writing and escaping into your mind- Sorry. My medicine is making me hyper. Just please review and let me know that I have a right to be proud of this thing. Thanks!  
Dleet_


	5. 

Chapter Five

  


The Maze

"Get off me!" Catherine shouted as she quickly scrambled off Bran.

"Me get off you?" Bran demanded. "You're the one who was on me!"

"It's not like I meant to!" Catherine retorted. She stood and dusted off her jeans. 

After a few seconds of silence, Bran stuck his hands under his head and said meditatively, "I guess it couldn't get any worse."

"Excuse me?" Catherine demanded. "You think this is as bad as it can get? Do you want me to make it worse for you?"

"Can you?" Bran said sleepily.

"I could make your life an absolute hell if I so desired."

"You talk a lot for someone who has nothing to say," Bran observed. He yawned, closed his eyes, and sighed peaceably.

"Oh, you are awful," Catherine said. She thought about kicking him in the ribs, did it, and walked away to sit down and pretend she didn't know him.

* * *

"Ow!" Will said as something touched his head.

Jane immediately yanked her hands away. "Sorry. You were woozy. You really hit your head hard, you know."

"I figured."

"Here. Bend your head down." Jane tilted his head forward, and Will didn't bother protesting. He could remember all too well how his mother and sisters had behaved when he'd gotten sick with the illness that had sent him to Wales in the first place. He felt something cold run through his hair.

"Is that blood?" Will asked, alarmed.

"No," Jane laughed. "It's water. We've got a pool in here now."

"Oh." After a second, he said, "You're getting me wet, you know."

"You know, neither one of us can get any wetter."

Will studied his jeans in the dim light. It was true, now that he noticed it. They were soaked.

"Now what?" Jane said as she wrapped the driest piece of cloth she could find around his head.

Will shrugged. "We have to find a way out, of course."

"Can you magick us out?" Jane asked. "Fly, or something?"

"Afraid not," Will said. "I'm afraid that took a lot of strength out of me, and even if it hadn't, I'm not sure they aren't waiting for us up there."

Jane nodded. "True. So what else?"

"We'll have to find another way," Will said. "The sooner, the better. You may have to help me at first, though. I think I'm still a bit woozy."

Jane cupped Will's chin in her hand and turned his head so she could see his eyes. It didn't take him nearly as long for his eyes to come back into focus this time. She nodded, pleased. "You're doing better. Come on." She stood, helped Will to stand, and helped him walk into the darkness of the mountain. "Not even light?" she asked tentatively.

Will shook his head and said, apologetically, "Not for a while, sorry."

"It's okay, I guess," Jane said. "It's just that I'd rather see what's around. In those stories about King Arthur, did he ever fight any demons or monsters in hollow mountains?"

Will stopped walking. "You'd have to ask Bran or Barney about that. Or Merriman. They're the experts. Why don't we rest here, and when I'm feeling better, I'll whip us up some light and we can go on?"

Jane shook her head. "No way," she said emphatically. "At least forty minutes, you've got to stay up. If you fall asleep, you might slip into a coma."

Will sighed. "I don't have a concussion, Jane."

"I'm not risking it. And I will _not_ be left in here, all alone and defenseless, looking after a boy in a coma whom I have no idea how to take care of, if you make a mistake and actually _do_ fall asleep when you _do_ have a concussion." She grabbed Will's arm and started walking again.

"I don't have a concussion," Will muttered.

"Hush up about that. Talk to me about something else. Your home. Or the weather. Anything else. Just keep talking."

"I don't have a concussion," Will repeated. All the same, he did what she asked and told her about his home and the farm, his family, his friends. By the time he was done, the two had slowly but surely realized that the mountain wasn't just hollow- it had a maze in it.

* * *

Bran rubbed his sore ribs. "Violence doesn't answer everything, you know."

"Hmph," Catherine said, crossing her arms.

"Listen, we need to get out of here," Bran said. "We still need to find Will and Jane, and then we have to catch up with the others."

"And you have to get back to your angel, Isabella de Francis, don't you?" Catherine said sweetly.

Bran stopped and looked at her. "You don't like her?" he asked.

"No. But she thinks the world of you. Really. So far I know how rich you are, how powerful, the value of several things she saw in your house, and a few other things."

"I suppose the few other things would be about..."

"She's stringing you along for all you're worth," Catherine said simply. She stood and dusted herself off. "Another reason we have to get out of here is that I have to make sure the girls are all right. You should have seen them at the inn," she said proudly. "Two started bouncing back immediately. If they haven't been caught yet, they should get the others to be back to normal in no time."

Bran nodded and stood. "So how did you get away from Daniel this time?"

"Luck and being on the track team," Catherine said. She elaborated as they walked. It didn't take long, and Bran waited until they were away from the light of day before he used Eirias to make light. Once Catherine saw it, she asked about it, and she pestered Bran about it until he explained.

"Can you fight with it?" she asked as they came to a turn. They followed it and quickly took another turn after that.

"Of course I can fight with it."

"Well?"

"Not very. I was just learning different styles before you came."

"Sorry I interrupted," she said dryly.

"Apology not accepted."

"Excuse me?" Catherine asked, shocked. She'd meant it as sarcasm, and here he was, taking her seriously!

"Well, seeing as how you did it a second time and are bound to do it again, I don't think you're truly sorry."

"Oh, this does top all," Catherine said slowly.

They reached a dead end and turned around. Now they could go either left or right. Catherine looked at Bran, hiding her anger behind a deep look of suspicion.

Bran nodded. "It's a maze."

"A maze inside a hollow mountain," Catherine said with a laugh. "Whoever designed this, I'm just going to have to beat them to a pulp and eat them. No, maybe not eat them. I think I'll become a vegetarian."

Bran sighed, accepted this as just talk (or blabber), and steered her to the left. They had to find a way out.

* * *

"Well," Barney said, squinting to study something only he could see, "they're all okay. Jane and Will are near water, in darkness, and Will's a bit... a bit... I don't know. He's weaker, though. Jane's fine. He'll live. Bran is in the dark, too, but he isn't alone, sir. There's a girl with him."

"Cat," Clara said, nodding.

Arthur stopped pacing and studied Barney while Barney studied Clara. "I knew I shouldn't have let him go off on his own," he said at last.

Clara shook her head. "No, sir. It was meant to be like this. And besides, I heard he was against bigger odds at school."

"Don't you mean better?" Arthur demanded. "He's against full-fledged Dark Lords, and you think he's fine because he's had tough times at school?"

Clara shrugged and said again, "It was meant to be like this."

Barney nodded to Clara. "Why don't you help me?" he asked. "You handle the listening, I'll take over the Seeing."

Clara looked at everyone around her nervously, swallowed, and sat down in front of Barney, who spoke softly to get her to relax. Right before she could listen to the Voice, a loud voice cut through her thoughts from up, way outside. Clara came outside of herself again and looked at Barney, who was glaring furiously at Isabella.

"What do you mean, with Cat?" Isabella demanded. "A cat? A feline?"

"You're psychic," Clara spat at her. Isabella was the one who had almost gotten them all caught by Daniel and his soldiers, what with all her clothes and hair things and luxuries. "You figure it out." And immediately, before she could notice Barney's look of approval, she sank inside herself and listened.

"They're in the mountain," she said slowly, in an oddly monotonous voice. "Continue on. They will follow. The paths cross."

Clara's eyes fluttered open, she grinned at Barney, lay down where she was, curled up, and promptly went to sleep.

* * *

Once he'd gotten through telling her about one of his trips to London, Jane let Will rest against a wall. Before she could protest, he'd made a bright ball of light and was grinning at her.

"I'm feeling better now," he said simply. He rested a few minutes longer, Jane rubbing her shoulders silently, and then stood up and collected the light in his hand. He offered his other hand to Jane and helped her up. "Come on. I think I can smell fresh air."

Jane stood and walked with him. After two more rights and three lefts, they found themselves in blessed sunlight. Even better, Will could see that the horizon was farther of here and with a gentle curve. Farther down, when they'd been with Merriman and the others, large trees had made the horizon look slightly bumpy, and there had been on island out on the sea (when you could see it) that made even the ocean look bumpy. But here, everything was smooth. It was also darker.

"We'll rest here," Will said, seeing that Jane was half asleep already. "In the morning, we'll go down the path. I think it will take us to Merriman."

Jane nodded, rolled onto her stomach, and slowly feel asleep.

* * *

"All right," Catherine finally said. "You've proven your point. You're stronger than I am, and you have much more stamina. So can we just stop now and rest? Haven't you worn your boots out yet?"

"Nope," Bran said cheerily, whistling.

Catherine muttered evil things to do to him in his sleep as they walked.

Finally, at the edge of a pond, Bran stopped. He cupped his hands, dipped them into the water, and tasted it a little before drinking thirstily. Catherine fell beside him and helped.

"Think we can drain the whole thing?" she asked Bran pleasantly enough a few seconds later.

"Probably not, but I don't see any reason not to try."

They started drinking again.

It was Catherine who simply dove into the water, laughing. Bran stayed at the edge, watching her. Finally, he shook his head and went on drinking. When Catherine resurfaced, she asked, "Why aren't you swimming? The water's great. Very cool."

"I'm sure," Bran said. "After all, I've been drinking it for a while now. But haven't you noticed that you'll have to air-dry, and it's going to take a long time to air-dry without the sun? I'm not that crazy about freezing and coming down with frostbite, thank you."

Catherine frowned. "Hold on. I just kicked something." She sucked in her breath and dove beneath the water. Bran looked up through the hole in the wall, far above them, at the dark velvet sky with the pale light of the stars and silver light of the moon illuminating the waterfall.

"What in the world is _harp_ doing here?" Catherine's voice cut in. Bran jumped slightly and looked at what she was holding up. It was indeed a harp, a small harp, and a golden one. It was one Bran had played so long and so few times before...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Hey, it's Dleet again, leaving an author's note. For one: Copyright 2001. Two: It occurred to me that I don't think I've done this as of yet. The characters you recognize from Susan Cooper's "The Dark is Rising Sequence" belong to Susan Cooper. Not me. I don't possess enough genius._ :)_ Third: I want to thank everyone for their comments about this story, including Alan, who hasn't left any reviews because he hasn't read it yet. I told him about it, and so he borrowed the books from his friend to familiarize himself with the books just so he could review my fic. Isn't that sweet? Five: I've toned down certain things because they're too dark or things along that line. When Catherine cusses, I've substituted it with something along the lines of "What in the world." Susan Cooper wrote five entire books without having to cuss- I'm determined to do the same. Six: This story can be found at my website, along with many other stories (not all by me). If you want to check out the site or want to donate fanfiction or suggest things along that line to me, my site address is [Anything and Everything][1], and my email address is [CougarLover_Am_I@yahoo.com][2]._

Last but not least, THANKS!

   [1]: http://www.geocities.com/CougarLover_Am_I/
   [2]: mailto:CougarLover_Am_I@yahoo.com



	6. The Harp

Chapter Six

  


The Harp

"Let me see that," Bran said, reaching for it.

Catherine stuck it behind her back. "Say please."

"_Please,_" Bran said coldly.

Catherine handed it to him. "I'd have thought the Prince," she'd clasped her hands together and held them to her heart, making her voice dreamy, and then made her tone flat, "would have more manners than that."

"You have no right to speak of manners," Bran said offhandedly. "Least not till you get some."

Catherine glared at him.

Bran ran his fingers over the strings and then plucked strands randomly. After a few seconds, he started playing a tune. A stone fell, and he stopped.

"That was your fault," Catherine said, eyeing the stone.

Bran ran his fingers over the strings and started playing again. The walls of the maze began falling. Catherine was tempted to cover her ears with her hands, but the sound of the harp was above all of the loud crashes, and she couldn't stand to block it out.

After a few moments, they stood facing each other in the hollow mountain.

"The fall wasn't as much as I'd thought," Bran said at last.

"Yeah," Catherine agreed as she picked up her sack. She'd tossed it off before she'd gone swimming. "Let's go," she said. "I'm getting cold."

There were five entrances to choose from. Bran walked around the pond to the one on the other side. Catherine hurried to follow.

They were in woods. "How did these get here?" Catherine asked. "I mean, there were those woods we saw before, but they were nothing like these. These- these- they-"

Bran nodded. "Don't end."

Catherine indicated the harp with a wave of her hand. "Did that bring us here?"

"No. Something else did. Or someone."

He drew Eirias and shoved the harp into Catherine's arms. She held it uncertainly. "Hold that," Bran said, looking around.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" she demanded.

Bran went forward a few steps. Catherine shoved the harp in her sack. It stuck out a bit, but as long as she was careful... She found a large fallen branch that would serve well enough to bludgeon someone if they were attacked and followed closely.

Bran stopped suddenly as they heard a loud wail. Catherine jumped a bit. They listened, trying to find where it came from.

"It's a _baby,_" Catherine whispered, and with that she started running in the direction it came from.

Bran grabbed her arm. "It may be a trap," he reminded her.

She nodded slightly and followed as he went silently through the woods, following the sound. Within seconds she was glaring at him and waving him onward. He ignored her and looked around. Twice, she tried to rush past him. Both times, he held her back and reminded her. The second time, he threatened to tie her to a tree. After that, she went with him obediently and made no move to run to the sound.

Bran looked at the blade of Eirias when they were close to the sound. It showed no signs of the Dark. He stepped back and nodded to Catherine, who grinned and ran past.

She stuck her arms under a bush and pulled out the squirming baby. She reached back in and pulled out a blanket. "Look at it, Bran," she said. "Isn't it adorable?"

"Don't get too attached," Bran advised. "How do you think it got here? Something called us here, and it was evidently for that."

"It's a him," Catherine corrected. "And even if it _is_ a trap, I'm not going to let anything happen to him. Am I?" she asked the baby. She wrapped it in the blanket and cradled it in her arms. "Isn't it sweet?" she asked once he had stopped crying. The baby moved its arms a bit, yawned, and fell asleep.

Bran shook his head. "Yes, he is," he said. He frowned. She was already too attached. "Come on. Let's go back. We'll find another way out of the mountain and camp there."

"Why can't we camp here?" she asked, looking at the baby's face.

"Because this place isn't real," Bran said softly. "Come on."

This time she didn't protest. She followed obediently, and for the rest of the night while they set up camp at one of the other four exits did everything he asked. When she was done, she put the baby in her lap and stroked its hair out of its face while she read the papers in the sack. Bran took the harp out of the sack and played it a bit, thinking. He supposed it would be the best for all concerned if he took the child away now and gave it to someone to foster. Surely, Daniel had gotten it from somewhere. He wondered if Catherine loved the child so much so quickly of her own will. But the fact was fact. After his mother had been taken away from him and knowing now how much she had loved him, he couldn't do that to someone else.

* * *

"Did it work?" the man said.

Daniel hung his cloak on the peg and turned to face his client. He had just come to see whether the child was still there or not. "Yes. I told you it would."

"Good. I am willing to pay a large amount for her. She will be a valuable asset to me, but not if she is not broken."

"I know, Dmitri, I know. She's attached to the child. I saw to that."

"Why?"

"Because I see to everything, that's why."

"No. Why is she so attached to a child she has just seen?"

"Because she had a child before. Long before. When we were still together," Daniel said slowly.

"Ah," Dmitri said with a smile. "So you were her teacher in more things than just one."

"You might say that," Daniel admitted. Even if he was a client, that didn't mean Dmitri was entitled to the entire truth. "I already know what she'll name him, too."

"What?"

"Michael. After the Archangel."

"So she's very involved in religion?"

"Something like that." Daniel would never tell this person why she had named the first child Michael.

* * *

The next morning, Arthur was one of the first ones up, and it was obvious that he hadn't slept. Merriman gave him a pat on the shoulder and tried to tell him to get some rest after breakfast, but Arthur waved all his comments away. "It isn't a good day, is it?" he asked the three children left. Barney, Simon, and Clara shook their heads.

"I dreamt last night that Daniel got Cat," Clara admitted quietly.

"Won't happen," Barney said firmly.

"It _is_ possible," Isabella said. She looked at Arthur. "We must hurry to reach the top of the mountain, sir."

"Yes, so we do," Arthur said. "Let's go." And with that, he got up, less than half his breakfast eaten. Barney, Simon, and Clara sighed and gave the large remnants of theirs to Merriman, who took some and passed the rest down.

They were a grim, silent group as they walked up the mountain. It wasn't until lunch that things started to look up. While they were once again picking at a small lunch, they heard a cheery, "Hullo!"

Looking up the mountain path, they saw Jane and Will coming down, grinning and holding hands.

Holding hands?

Simon looked twice just to make sure he'd seen right. Barney hid a grin behind a hand and finally had to dive behind Merriman to keep from being seen trying not to laugh.

"Hello!" Merriman said cheerfully, smiling. "How are you two doing?"

"Wonderfully well since we found everyone in the nick of time to intrude in a meal," Will said as he got closer. "What is it?" he asked. "It smells delicious."

Jane saw Simon staring at their held hands and quickly let go of Will's hand. He grinned at her. Jane grinned shyly back, aware that her entire face was red. "Gumerry," she said, "Will had a fall, I'm afraid. Could you see to his head, please? He hit it very hard."

"Is that why the bandage is there?" Merriman asked. They both nodded, and Merriman said, "Well, I'm not a doctor, I'm afraid. McIntire, could you see what you can do?"

A man with dark brown hair nodded and stood. Will walked steadily to him and sat down as McIntire instructed. McIntire cautiously took off the bandage, "Not a bad job of that," he said to no one in particular, and tossed it on the ground. "Useless now. That's a lot of blood you spilled, young one."

"Trust me," Will said, grinning, "it's better than it looks."

"So it is," McIntire agreed. "It's already mostly healed. I'm going to put a clean bandage on it just the same. You can take it off tomorrow. By then it should be healed." The doctor then did as he said and handed Will a large plate of gruel.

Will made a face. "I suppose this is what makes soldiers so brave," he said as he valiantly stuck some in his mouth.

Arthur laughed. "Did you see Bran?" he asked.

Will shook his head. "Should we have?" he asked.

Arthur shrugged. "He went after you, searching for you."

"He'll be back soon, then," Will said as he took another bite. "This is incredibly good gruel. My compliments to the chef."

"I think I'll take some too, please," Jane said hastily. Simon was still staring at her in shock. She hadn't seen Barney's entire face yet, but since what she could see was bright red, she could tell he was trying not to laugh.

Well, what's wrong with it? she thought as she sat down. And then she had an alarming thought: What's wrong with _what?_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Sorry it took so long, guys. I had this major project due for music appreciation. I've been DIRS-fic-writing deprived for the past week, at least. Geez, I can't wait to get back to this! I might even post the next part tonight. Here's the date, as is, for reference- TIME ME! May 24, 2001._


	7. The Child

Chapter Seven

  


The Child

Bran scowled as Catherine cuddled the baby again. True, she hadn't argued, and she had done what he had told her, but he would have rather seen Catherine at her worst than see her walk blindly into this trap. She didn't even seem to care!

"I've decided to name him Michael," she said. Bran tried not to act too impatient as she stopped once more to rearrange the baby's blanket. Her taking care of the boy had already set them back nearly half a day.

"Why Michael?" Bran asked.

"Because he's conquered so much," she said softly, not truly thinking.

"He hasn't conquered anything," Bran pointed out.

"Yes he has," Catherine said. It seemed like she was about to say more, but she stopped herself in time and rearranged the blankets again.

"What was that about?" Bran demanded.

"What?"

"What was that about? You were about to say something, and then you stopped, and now you're what- changing the subject by fiddling with the poor child or trying to pretend nothing happened by saying 'What?'"

"I don't know what you mean," Catherine said, turning away. She smiled at Michael and, since they weren't going anywhere apparently, tried to rock him to sleep by swaying back and forth.

"I think I deserve an answer," Bran said.

"You shouldn't."

"Catherine-"

"Cat. Everybody calls me Cat. I didn't go through a maze like that with a person like you to be treated formally."

His jaw clenched at the "person like you," but he ignored it. "I'll take him away from you and give him to an elderly couple who truly deserve him if you do not answer me."

Catherine spun to face him quickly, hugging Michael tight. "You wouldn't dare," she said.

"I would."

She studied him carefully, stroking Michael's hair. "It isn't important," she said. She tried to walk past him.

Bran quickly blocked her way and grabbed her arm before she could run off. "Does Daniel know?"

After a few seconds, she nodded quickly.

"If the Dark knows, then the Light should know."

"What are the Dark and Light? It's not as if its a secret."

"It is from me, isn't it? Tell me. I'll explain about the Light and the Dark after you explain."

"All right." They sat on a fallen log, and she sighed. "Um... Okay. About two years ago, Daniel and I were dating. Did I ever tell you that? Well, we did. Four months. In New Orleans, Louisiana. He wasn't the nicest guy back then, but girls like me don't really have a choice or a chance, do they?" She smiled sadly, not looking at him. "So one night we were coming back from a restaurant, a diner where we usually had our dates, since it was affordable. And coming home, I heard this crying, right? Well, Daniel, of course, tried to drag me away because he said I was a sucker for anything. Maybe I was. Maybe I am." She grinned at Michael.

Bran, to his credit, didn't say anything.

"So I followed the sound and found a little baby boy, just like this one. And I named him Michael because he was in a gutter and there were killers and prostitutes and all these other rotten people around, but he was still alive and healthy enough to cry. My parents didn't want me to keep him, but I kept him anyway. I got a job to pay expenses, but I didn't get my check but once a week, and a baby is really expensive when you first get one. My parents wouldn't give me any money, so I had to borrow some from Daniel. When I got my paycheck, I paid him back and used the rest on Michael. But I kept having to borrow money from Daniel. And he kept getting angry. And he got angrier." She turned her head away and looked solely at the Michael in her arms, her eyes stinging. "One day I came home, and we went out, and I took Michael with us. But he started crying in the diner, and Daniel got angry. He dragged us both outside into the alley and snatched Michael away from me. He'd been teaching me how to fight, and he was a lot stronger than I was. When I tried to get Michael back, he just kicked me away."

She stopped and looked up, studying the terrain beyond the precipice. "He went to where I first found the first Michael and said, 'It ends where it began,' and just snapped his neck." She swallowed and allowed herself a quick shiver before standing up hastily, Daniel's words and the quick pop still reverberating in her mind. "We broke up after that. For understandable reasons," she said with a lighthearted laugh.

"I'm sorry, Cat," Bran said.

"Don't be," Catherine said. She cradled Michael in her arms. "After all, you aren't the one who killed him."

Bran stood and dusted himself off. He picked the sack up.

"Bran?" Catherine asked.

"Yes?"

"I want you to promise something to be. It won't be too hard, I think. You're stronger than I am. Will you keep him from killing Michael as he killed the other one?"

* * *

That night, when they had reached the others and after a celebratory dinner, Catherine, who had left Michael sleeping in Arthur's tent, the safest place she could think of, sat down between Jane and Clara and said, "I need to learn manners. And quickly, if you please."

Jane and Clara looked surprised and glanced at each other.

"Well," Jane said doubtfully. "First of all, don't sit like that."

"How, then?"

"Uh, with your legs together. Kind of like you sit on your legs and then fall off, without the having to sit on them and fall off part."

Catherine grinned and did as Jane had said. "Like this?"

"Yes."

"Hey," Bran said, coming up behind them. "Cat, come on. I need to see how good you are at fighting."

"What?"

"If you took lessons on fighting from the Dark, you need to know the proper way to fight as well."

"All right." Catherine stood up, dusted herself off, and followed him to the edge of the clearing. As she showed Bran the fighting stances and moved she could still remember, he explained about the Light and the Dark and continued explaining while he showed her new moves, along with the proper way to throw a punch. As she practiced and punched a tree softly to toughen the skin on her knuckles, he practiced with Will with a sword, then against his father.

And through all this, Isabella de Francis watched from her tent. Clara had not been killed yet. She was coming under the protection of the Light, and soon it would be too late. But this other girl was just as bad, moving into Isabella's territory as she was. The Pendragon and she were friends; the Pendragon was shortening her name.

That just means I need to find a way to shorten my name as well, Isabella thought. The Dark could not come close to her when she was surrounded by the Light. She was on her own.

Tomorrow, they were scheduled to stay at an Inn where adventurous vacationers sometimes went. It would be best for her to claim the Pendragon as hers there.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_All right! The same day! May 24, 2001! YAY! *cough* Which reminds me, copyright 2001. And I don't know if I've stuck any disclaimers in here or not, so here goes: The characters you recognize from "The Dark is Rising Sequence" by Susan Cooper belong to her. Clara, Catherine, Isabella, Dmitri, Daniel, and Michael belong to moi. Thanks for reading, folks!_


	8. The Seer

Chapter Eight

  


The Seer

From the very beginning, Isabella's plan didn't go as she had hoped. Oh, it was all right as they went to the Inn. They went more quickly than the day before, making up for lost time. She either walked next to Bran or with his father or with Merriman. They all seemed to enjoy her company, and the "children" started following her, smiling and telling jokes and stories. Catherine was the only one who hung back, though Isabella had no idea why. Most often, Catherine would walk beside Bran or Jane or Clara, but she would leave as soon as Isabella began to approach.

By the time they arrived at the Inn, Isabella was walking with Bran most of the time, sharing stories and laughing. As the Seer, she got a room at the Inn to herself. Not many adventurers came by in this season since there was hardly ever anything going on. The other three girls had been placed in a room together, and the others had been split up accordingly.

The first real problem literally reared its head during dinner. His name was Herne, and she remembered with dismay that he was a hunter. When she had been a child, her parents had taught her to always put the animals in on that one night of the year, for that was the night Herne the Hunter had his hunt, and any animals that were loose at the time would be lost. Herne had the same yellow eyes as Arthur and his son, with antlers. The mouth was hard, the beard below it soft. Feathers rimmed the eyes.

He pulled up on his white mare and waved to Arthur, who opened the door to welcome him.

"Good evening to you, King Arthur. I would have thought by now you would be farther!" he said with a smile.

Arthur smiled back. "A bit of difficulties have changed our schedules somewhat," he admitted. "I am glad you could make it, Hunter."

"I wouldn't have missed it for all the hunting dogs in the world!" One of his hunting dogs, lithe and with burning red eyes, glared at him for this remark and promptly ran off to the kitchens, leading the others.

Arthur showed Herne inside and introduced him to all he did not know. Clara waved while Catherine sat with a sleeping Michael beside her. She grinned at him while Jane readjusted her pupil's grip on a fork and looked up with satisfaction. While Jane wasn't looking, Catherine changed her grip and speared a piece of meat, sticking it in her mouth and switching to the proper grip before Jane noticed. Herne grinned.

Isabella stood. "Pleased to meet you," she said softly. She curtseyed and went upstairs, saying she needed a rest.

Once she was out of earshot, Herne said softly, "That girl reeks of the Dark."

"You can smell it on her?" Catherine said, surprised.

"Of course he can, dear," Clara said offhandedly. "He's a hunter. What did you expect?"

"Where I come from, the hunters don't smell things," Catherine retorted. She got up and picked up Michael. "Sir?" she asked Arthur. "May I put him in your room again?" Arthur nodded, and Catherine climbed the stairs, saying she'd be back in a second for more unnecessary torture.

At this, Herne looked to Jane, somewhat alarmed. "This does not become you," he said simply.

Jane laughed as he sat down. "We're trying to teach her manners. It was the oddest thing. She just caught up with us and asked us to teach her manners, and I guess it's turning out to be more trouble than she thought."

"Ah," Herne said. Something in Arthur's eye stopped him from asked more. Instead, he leaned forward, and Arthur started speaking softly of his thoughts. By the time dinner was offered, which he politely declined, saying he'd already eaten, Herne had the same small laughing glint in his eye.

* * *

Catherine went into Arthur's room and grinned at the blanket that had already been spread on the floor. She set Michael on it, smiled as he stirred sleepily, and stroked his hair until he was calm again. Arthur had left a note on the blanket, and she read it in the fading light. "Lock the door behind you." She grinned. From what Bran had told her, this was his first true chance to be a full-time father again, rather than a few short-lived meetings. She suspected Arthur had been up half the night playing with Michael, who had been incredibly tired in the morning and had slept nearly till noon, when he'd finally gotten hungry enough to wake up.

Sighing happily, she went into the hall and locked the door behind her. While she'd been in his room, someone had lit all the candles in the hall. She started walking back to the room where they'd eaten, she wasn't sure what to call it, and was distracted by a giggle.

She paused. She could have sworn she recognized-

There was another giggle, coming from behind her. Catherine turned and followed the noise.

* * *

So far, so good, Isabella thought as she giggled again. She hated giggling, but it never failed to make the person feel wittier than they were.

"Thank you for escorting me to my room," she whispered.

"No problem," Bran said.

"Would you like to come in?" she asked.

"No, thank you. I think I should be getting back."

"Oh, come on," she coaxed. "Live for once."

"I am living," Bran said, his voice beginning to get frosty.

Isabella ignored it tactfully and laughed as if it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. She wrapped her arms around Bran's neck and looked into his eyes, shivering. "They're yellow," she thought. How strange.

She had him to the wall. "Kiss me," she whispered. One kiss and he would be hers, whether he wanted it or not. She leaned forward and felt someone tap her on the shoulder. "Oh, what now?" she asked loudly. She turned to reprimand whoever had interrupted for and saw a fist flying toward her. She wasn't quick enough to get out of the way.

"Ow!" she shouted, touching her cheek gingerly.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Catherine said, disgusted. "Suck it up."

"Bran, darling, surely you don't want her to-"

"Cat, I'm afraid she's right."

"Well, if I can't fight her, can I throw her out a window or something?"

"Of course not!" Bran said.

"Well, then can I take her to the kitchen and stick her hand in-"

"No, Cat."

"Bring the boiling water up here?" she asked hopefully.

"No."

"Fine. Be responsible and mature." She glared at Isabella. "If I ever, _ever_ catch you trying to hit on him again when he obviously doesn't want it, and if I ever catch you acting sweet on him again, I swear to you I will do the worse thing you can imagine."

Isabella laughed. "Such as?"

Catherine took a step forward. Although they both knew she wasn't going to try anything, Bran held out an arm to stop her just in case things got out of hand. "I'll cut all your hair. If I leave any left, it will be uneven. I'll scar your face, dropping hold liquid on it and making it bubble. I'll cut out your tongue just to make sure you won't be able to flirt with anyone, and just in case you get the bright idea of sign language, which I'm pretty sure hasn't been invented yet, I'll cut off your fingers too. And for the rest of your life, wherever you go, whomever you meet, people will shriek when they see you. The braver ones will look at you in horror, and you will see their faces. You will hear people talk of your ugliness behind your back." Catherine sighed. All the while, Isabella had been backing up, horrified, and Catherine turned to grin at her audience, which had been responding to Isabella's shout.

"Well- Well..." Isabella stammered. "Your mother is whore!"

Catherine laughed. "No argument there."

"You are the daughter of a pig!"

"I suppose they do eat..."

"You will get the precious boy of yours killed because you don't know how to protect it." Catherine stopped walking, clenching and unclenching her fists. Bran gave her a slight push forward, Catherine a slight nod, and they started walking again. "The boy is ugly, and stupid!" Isabella shouted. "He would be better off being raised by Daniel in a whorehouse!"

Catherine spun around. "Say it again," she said in a low voice. "Give me a reason. Just one."

"Cat," Bran said sternly. He gently turned her shoulders around, but Catherine stood firmly rooted to the spot.

"Daniel could be a better parent than you," Isabella said softly.

"Oh, that is it!" Catherine shouted. And with that, she flung Bran's arm aside and ran at Isabella.

* * *

"You know full well you shouldn't have done that," Clara said. Michael was laying on the bed. She dangled a ribbon in front of him lifted it right before he grabbed it, letting it run through his fingers. Michael smiled and tried to get it again.

Catherine watched and smiled. "I know, I think. But honestly, Daniel? _Daniel?_ I've seen his idea of being a parent."

"Perhaps. But it still wasn't an excuse. Especially when they were teaching you should only fight when it's absolutely necessary."

"Yeah. I guess I just have to learn that a bit better."

"If they continue to teach you at all," Clara pointed out.

Catherine sank onto her bed, miserable. That thought hadn't even occurred to her. "I haven't been grounded before," she said. "I suppose he's really angry."

"Well, you did everything he told you not to," Clara said. She held up her hand and started counting things off on her fingers. "1) He kept telling you not to, and you did it anyway. 2) He tried to keep you from doing it, and you shoved his arm out of his way. Haven't you learned by now that when he tries to use force, he means it? 3) They'd taught you not to fight in situations like that, and you still did it."

"You aren't a mother," Catherine whispered quickly.

"Neither are you," Clara reminded her in a whisper.

* * *

"Well?" Bran asked as Clara came out.

Clara shook her head. "I don't think she's ever been punished by her peers before. Did you tell her what would happen if she disobeyed you or went against what you taught her?"

Bran shook his head.

"You might want to. I don't think she understands punishment like this. She understands immediate cause and effect. Someone killing another, not getting away in time, and getting caught by the police. Someone stealing and then suddenly having a free lava lamp or something. Stuff like that."

Bran shook his head again. "No one could have grown up like that."

Clara sat down next to him. "Not everyone was as lucky as you, Pendragon. Always remember that."

"Please don't call me Pendragon," Bran asked coldly.

"It is your birthright," Clara said curtly. "You need to learn that sometimes the price of things is worth it."

"Sometimes?"

"Yes, sometimes. Everything depends upon what you make of it, Pendragon. Work hard, understand what you are doing, see the need for what you do, want to do what you do, and the price of being the Pendragon will have been worth it."

"Only if I make changes," Bran said with a dark laugh.

"Then make them, Bran, son of Arthur, Pendragon."

* * *

Clara next went to see Isabella.

"Oh, please go away," Isabella said when she entered. Clara saw Isabella hadn't seen whom it was, since she was hiding her face, and cleared her throat.

"You need to put some meat on that," Clara said. "Or else it will swell."

"It's already swollen," Isabella said miserably. Clara walked over and finally succeeded in prying Isabella's hands away from her face long enough to get a look.

"So it is," she agreed. "If I were you," she said, changing her tone as well as the subject, "I'd leave and go back to wherever you came from. The Dark has made you vain, my friend. The Voice never meant it to be so."

"And how would you know?" Isabella said with a cold laugh.

"The Voice says so. Learn how to listen to it again, Isabella de Francis. The Voice will look after you to the point where a swollen face and few scratches will not frighten anyone, least of all you." Clara continued in this vein until there was an empty room at the inn.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_© 2001. Guess what? I finished the story! YAY!_


	9. The Bond

Chapter Nine

  


The Bond

Catherine was, at the least, surprised, when Bran walked into her room the next day and set her breakfast on the table. Jane and Clara had both been told to stay in Isabella's abandoned room and had moved out around dawn that morning, saying they had decided to stay another day; a storm was coming.

"Hello," Catherine said.

"Where are those papers you took from Daniel?" Bran demanded.

Catherine pulled them out of the sack. He was angry, sure, but not too angry with her. That was good. "Since when did you become translator?" she asked

"Meaning?"

"That stuff is nearly all but illegible. It gave me a headache."

Bran looked over the pages and made a thoughtful sound. Then he became hard again. "From now on, if you disagree with something I or anyone else here says, you have to say so. I will allow you to argue over it. You may learn something, and perhaps they will. But from now on, whenever you know we are right, when I tell you something and you know it would be best for you to obey me, you _must_ obey. Is that clear?"

Catherine blinked and nodded mutely.

"From now on, if you do something wrong, you will be reprimanded. I understand that you had a very loose childhood- no one much cared to teach you right from wrong. Well, that ends now. From now on, I'll be teaching you morality as well."

Catherine couldn't catch her tongue in time. "You? Morality?"

Bran glared at her. This time, she didn't attempt to stand against it.

"Yes. We will continue teaching you how to fight, but only because we can't protect you from Daniel forever. Clara and Jane will teach you manners, as they have been doing. God knows you need them."

He gathered the papers and began to leave.

"Wait!" Catherine said, jumping off the bed. "Where are you going with those papers?"

"You said so yourself they were practically illegible and gave you a headache. At least I can read them and use them."

"Oh." Catherine passed him and held the door open for him. Bran left. "Bran," Catherine called when he was in the doorway. He stopped and turned. She hugged him quickly. "Thank you, Bran."

* * *

Daniel stuck a knife in his belt and took one last look around. Pity they didn't have guns in this time. And even the Dark had rules about those. Seeing nothing else he needed, he left. He was ready.

* * *

That afternoon, the storm struck. Catherine sat by the window, holding Michael. At first he was scared of the thunder and lightning, but she managed to calm him and show him how pretty it was when you actually watched it. And then she saw something coming into the road leading to the inn. A figure dressed in dark clothes, stocky, water running through the black hair.

She had sense enough to set Michael down on the ground before running to the door. She tried to open it, remembered too late that they'd locked it.

It wasn't even that bad! The girl wasn't even badly hurt! she felt like crying out. Instead, she pounded on the door, screaming that he was coming. Either no one cared or no one heard. She kept screaming until her throat hurt, and by then he was coming through the window. They'd locked the door, but not the window. Why?

She ran to get Michael away from him. They both got there at the same time. She held fast to one of the boy's hands, holding it gently but firmly. Daniel held the other tightly, picked up the boy, and began pulling.

"No!" she shouted. "Please no! You'll hurt him!"

He didn't say anything. He grabbed her wrist with a hand that seemed to come from nowhere. He pinched it, harder and harder, until at last she let go. Then he half-shoved, half-threw her onto the bed. She sat up. He was holding this Michael the same way as the one before. "Shame this can't end where it began," he said. "But end it will."

She heard the too-familiar pop and sat up, a scream stuck in her throat. She clamped her hand over her mouth before she could get it out. Don't let him know you're awake, she told herself. She looked around. It was dark. Past afternoon. The storm hadn't left completely; the rain was still falling gently. Shaking, she lit a candle and held it up high. She looked around the room, studying every crevice, every shadow. Nothing.

It had been only a dream.

She sniffled, and she drew her knees up to her chin. Quickly, she shook her head. There were other things she had to do. Get Michael and get out were among her top priorities. She placed the candle on the table and wrapped Michael in the too big blanket. He stirred a little, but went on sleeping, lost in dreams of his own.

"What I'd give to be able to sleep as peacefully as you," she said softly. She gathered the candle and went to the door. They hadn't locked it. She was slightly surprised by this; she'd never tried it before because Bran had made it so clear that she was to stay, but in the dream, she had been so _certain._

She swallowed and stepped into the hall. She'd left her shoes and socks in the room, and there was a draft running through that made her shiver. She tried hard to remember where Bran's room was. She'd hardly known where to find it before, and now she had the darkness working against her as well.

After too many eternities of wandering, she found what she hoped was the right room and knocked softly. He came a few seconds later.

"Cat," he said surprised.

"Please don't make me stay there tonight," she whispered.

He looked at her and stepped back to let her in. She came in gratefully and looked around. A few candles were lit, the papers she'd given him spread out. The candles had been lit for a while; the wax was wet and dripping.

"You were already awake," she said simply.

"Yes." He closed the door. "Now, then. Why did you leave your room when I thought I'd made it clear I'd wanted you to stay there?"

She shivered and began explaining about her nightmare. She hesitated when she got to the part when no one would come, but made that part short enough that he hopefully wouldn't notice, and she nearly had to stop altogether when she told him what Daniel had said. It wasn't until she told him she'd heard the pop, that Daniel had killed this one as well, that she lost control.

"Promise me," she said as he handed her a cup of water. She sipped at it, trying to get under control of herself again. "Promise me that you'll make sure Michael stays all right."

"I already promised," he pointed out.

"Then promise me again."

"I promise you again, then."

"Thank you, Bran."

She made sure Michael was comfortably sleeping and lay down beside him. A few minutes before she fell asleep, the scratching of a pen distracted her. "Go to sleep, Bran," she said sleepily.

"I will," he said.

"You'll do it now," she said, more forcefully and more awake.

"May I ask why you are giving orders to me?"

"Because you need sleep."

"I need to do this as well."

"You aren't doing anyone any good if you're half-dead. Go to bed, Bran."

"All right, all right."

* * *

The next day, Catherine was allowed out again. It was still raining, making the road too dangerous to travel. She refused to go into her room to gather her things until Clara agreed to go in with her. After that, she took the third bed in Isabella's abandoned room. That night, she asked Arthur to keep Michael in his room. They both knew that Bran had told him about her nightmare, and he agreed.

They stayed at the inn for three more days, until the road was safe enough to travel again. Catherine stayed close to the others, preferring to walk with either Bran or the girls. Four days after her nightmare, and ever since her dream, she'd had a growing awareness that he was coming closer. She didn't know why he hadn't been closer before, but now she felt intention behind everything. Four days cooped up in the inn only mean that Daniel was four days closer.

"It's a rush now, isn't it? To get to the top of the mountain?" she asked Bran.

"Yes."

"Good."

And then she noticed Jane and Will walking together comfortably, and she met Jane's eyes, and winked.

Jane blushed brilliantly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_© 2001. Hey, guys. 'Sup? Anyway, few more chapters. I'm sorry, guys, but I feel like such an irresponsible writer. It wasn't until I sat down to finish this (I had run into a snag in Chapter Ten) that I realized I already had two chapters ready for posting. C'est la vie. It's 3:17 in the morning, but I will see to it that you guys get this entire story today! (And I can get some rest. LOL.)_


	10. The Lost Prophecies

Chapter Ten

  


The Lost Prophecies

As Bran had said, it was most definitely a race. Simon dealt with it quite nicely, and every ten paces or so he thanked each of his lucky stars by name for keeping him in shape via football. It was even easier to deal with picking on Jane some of the time. Once, Simon had grabbed Barney's hand as she'd come up and said, "Ah, true love." She had blushed and, red from head to toe, gone to speak to Gumerry. He supposed, however, that it was about time to have a serious talk with her.

Clara was walking ahead with Bran, talking to him about something or other. Barney was beside him. "We're almost there," Barney said.

"Where?" Simon said.

"The entrance. The prophecies are hidden there. Not even Clara and I can find them."

"Who wants to make a bet on that?" Catherine said, grinning as she came up behind them. Michael was tugging on her hair in her arms.

Simon studied the small boy and asked, "Don't your arms ever get tired?"

"Not tired enough," Catherine said. "But seriously. I think you and Clara can find it. I mean, if the rest of us can..."

Barney shook his head. "No. The Seer who hid them, Alexis, made a deal with the High Magic so that no one could find the books with any sort of special power. So neither the Light nor the Dark has the upper hand."

"I thought she was on the Light's side."

"She was, I think. But fair's fair. And fair is the best way to do things when you know the future."

Catherine nodded, hardly understanding anything more than she had. She tickled Michael's nose with a strand of her hair and listened as Simon said, "What do you think will happen once we're out of this?"

"I don't know," Barney said slowly. "The Dark wasn't supposed to come back in the first place. All the rules have changed, I think."

"Wonderful," Simon said dryly.

The topic of conversation suddenly changed when they heard someone shout out that they had found the entrance.

They trooped forward until the stood with Merriman, Will, Bran, Clara, and Arthur. Catherine shifted Michael on her hip a bit nervously. Michael didn't bother making a sound of protest. He stared at the black mouth of the cave, along with everyone else. Catherine swallowed. "Let me guess. Last one in is a rotten egg?"

Bran looked at her. "You know, it's often a good idea not to rush things."

"I come from corporate America and you tell me that it's not often a good idea to rush things?"

"Do you even know what 'corporate' means?"

"So what if I don't?" Catherine demanded, getting slightly flustered.

Bran looked at her for a few seconds and shook his head. Catherine muttered the definition under her breath, too softly for anyone to hear. She was smart, but that didn't mean she had to show it. Bran looked at her again for a few seconds, probably thinking she was trying to cuss him out, before turning away. He finally shrugged. "We aren't going to accomplish anything just standing here." He set his shoulders and walked into the darkness. Will and the others followed him. They all stopped as soon as they entered.

The cave branched out into five different tunnels. "Twelve to a group?" Bran asked his father.

Arthur nodded. "One with me, one with Merriman, one with you, one with Will, one with Simon, and one with..." He looked around, but Clara seemed to have disappeared, along with Catherine. "Dawson."

The groups formed, a few with more than twelve members, and they separated.

Behind, in the main cavern, Catherine looked at Clara as she rocked Michael. "What is it?" she asked. Clara had pulled her aside right before everyone had been divided into groups and had urged her to be quiet until it was over.

"There's a passageway no one knows about," Clara said, leading her to a crevice near the entrance.

"No crud," Catherine said, studying the narrow, jagged entrance. "You call that a passageway? No wonder no one knows about it."

"Come on," Clara said happily. She squeezed through easily.

"Oh. That is not funny." Catherine crept a bit closer to the entrance. "Listen, Valley Girl. We should really go tell the guys. I mean, hello. Weapons and stuff. And if we get attacked, I refuse to throw a kid at- OOMPH!" A hand reached through the crevice, grabbed her arm, and pulled her through into the darkness.

* * *

" 'Up and down, up and down. I will lead them up and down,' " Will said, slightly perturbed.

"Puck, right?" Jane asked, walking beside him. "From 'A Midsummer Night's Dream,' by William Shakespeare?"

He grinned at her. "Yeah." Suddenly he heard something above them and looked up the cliff wall.

"What is it?" Jane asked, also looking upwards.

"Nothing," Will said, deliberately turning and leading her away. "Probably just the earth shifting, is all." He shivered slightly. The Dark was here.

* * *

"You're lucky I like you," Catherine said, not for the first time.

Clara grinned good-naturedly. "Oh, come on. It's good to have an adventure once in a while. It helps your mind."

"Yeah. It helps your mind gain freedom from your skull and your insides freedom from your body."

"Oh, come on. It's this way."

Ahead of her, Catherine heard pebbles shift and the sound of something sliding downwards, like nails scratching a bumpy chalkboard. "Clara?" she asked, her voice shaky. She felt in front of her with a foot. And edge. It definitely had an edge. She sat down and set Michael in her lap. "God, this is going to hurt," she said. She closed her eyes and held Michael tightly in her arms, pulling herself forward with her feet. And when there was nothing left to pull with, she leaned forward and fell.

* * *

After an eternity of bouncing this way and that, she hit the ground with a loud "UMPH!" Michael started crying, and she bounced him in her arms until he was calm again. Then she set him down, told him not to go anywhere, and started searching for Clara on hands and knees. She found Clara.

"Oh, God," she said softly. "No, Clara. No. Do not do this." She tried for a pulse. Nothing. No noise of breath besides her own and Michael's. She put her ear to Clara's chest. No heartbeat. Clara's hand was getting colder. Catherine rubbed it as if thinking the warmth were life itself. "No," she repeated. She kept repeating it, and she didn't start to cry until a steady hand was placed on her shoulder. And she stopped crying when the hand's owner spoke.

"She's dead, Cat."

"I know that, moron. What, you couldn't tell just by looking at her?" Catherine lifted her head and looked around. Daniel had brought a lit torch with him. She could see that it was only ten to twenty feet to the cliff above. Clara must have landed on her head. And in the darkness behind Daniel, half hidden in shadows, mostly hidden in dirt, she saw the top of a trunk. Michael was only a few feet away.

She stood, Daniel trying to help her. She knocked his hands away. "No," she said firmly. She rubbed her hands together. "Now, it's just you and me. Agreed?"

Daniel looked slightly surprised at first, but quickly looked amused. "Agreed," he said.

"Good. Then, I feel inclined to say just one thing. It's on, now!" She put her fists up and prayed someone would come soon.

* * *

"I don't suppose you had any luck," Bran said. His group and Will's had met in the same tunnel.

Will shook his head. _The Dark is here,_ he told Bran. Bran looked at Jane and understood why Will hadn't spoken out loud. Instead, Will said, "You know, you and I ought to go into business. We can find out if there's any profit in finding ready-made mazes."

"Get off me, you pompous piece of slime!" someone shouted. The voice echoed eerily down the tunnel. "OW!" came another shout.

"If I were a betting man," Bran said, "I'd bet that were Catherine. Sadly, no one would take me up on the bet." He and Will ran to follow the echoes.

* * *

"That's the best you've got?" Catherine demanded, ducking again. She tricked Daniel into punching the wall twice, but she was losing confidence quickly, along with energy. It hadn't helped when the stone he'd punched had cracked slightly.

On the bright side, his knuckles were getting bloody, and she was barely keeping him away from Michael and the chest.

On the down side, that meant that when she lost, she'd get blood all over her, and he'd get Michael and the chest anyway.

"I taught you," Daniel reminded her. He finally managed to pin her to the wall and grated between clenched teeth. "What do you hope to accomplish, anyway?"

"This," she retorted. She kicked him between the legs and rolled away once he dropped her, picking up rocks as she went.

"You little-" She grinned as he cleared his throat to lower his voice to its normal timbre. That done, he lunged at her, and she threw one of the rocks at him. He kept coming, and she threw another. At the last second, she dropped, rolled to the right, ran into a wall, and rolled past him.

She stood, and was surprised to hear someone else calling her name. She looked up and saw Bran above her. "Want up?" he asked.

"Oh, you know what?" she said angrily. "You're really funny, you know that? You should be hosting your own show!"

"No thanks. Showbiz can be brutal, I hear."

"You haven't seen brutal until you see what I'll do if I don't get out of here!" she snapped.

Daniel dusted himself off. "Well, Pendragon. I've got the girl, the boy, and the scrolls." He reached to pick up Michael as Catherine yelled threats.

"Stand up, please," said a deep, firm voice.

Perhaps out of nothing else but curiosity, Daniel looked and was apparently horrified by what he saw. Catherine, pressed against the wall, couldn't see much, but she did see the arrow come streaking down and hit Daniel. She looked away quickly, not truly knowing why, and when she looked back, Daniel was gone.

"I guess I should have been a bit faster," Herne mused.

"Don't even try," Bran said with a slight smile. "You know you just wanted to go after him in the Hunt."

"It was a tempting prospect, yes." He stuck his bow behind his back. "Catherine? You all right?"

"Grouchy, but all right," she said. She came out of the shadows and picked Michael up, hugging him tightly. He laughed, snuggled his head in the crook of her neck, and fell asleep. "Too much excitement for him," she said. She looked at Clara's body. It was out of Bran's line of sight. "The chest is down here," she said clearly. "Toss down a rope and I'll tie it up so you can hoist it or something."

"Or even better, I'll come down," Herne said, "and toss it up."

"No thanks," Catherine said testily. "I can manage." Remembering Herne had been the one to shoot the arrow, she closed her eyes, swallowed, and said, "Though I thank you for your kind offer."

He nodded, and a rope was lowered. First, she tied the chest to it, and after they'd lifted that up, they lowered the rope once again to pull herself and Michael up.

"Hey," Bran said. "You know where Clara is?"

"Leave her to the earth, Bran," Catherine said oddly. And with that, she led the way back to the entrance, stepping automatically and in deep thought, not making a sound.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_© 2001. 3:28 and still (kind of) going strong. Oy, vey. I think this is why they have that coffee stuff. Oy, vey again._


	11. Separation of Ways

Chapter Eleven

  


Separation of Ways

Clara sat up in the dark, except it wasn't dark. There was a blue light shining in front of her, soft and calming. And standing in the center of it was a woman.

"Hello, Clara," the woman said.

"Hello, my Lady," Clara said. She instinctively lowered her head.

"You should know better," the Lady said, coming forward and pressing a cool hand on Clara's forehead. Clara felt the wound healing.

"They think I'm dead," she said stonily.

"You are, dear. I've come to offer you a deal. If you decline, I'll be in trouble, but I'll find someone else, I'm sure."

"Deal?" Clara said carefully.

"Yes. You see, I was born when you were. The same day, the same time. The same place. But I had to live through all that has happened with the Dark. I am, after all, the Lady."

"But that means that you would have had to have been born in the past," Clara said.

"No, not at all. It just means that I would have had to have gone to the past. I'm offering you a great chance to help the Light, Clara. It will involve many sacrifices. But it will help the Light greatly, as well as myself. Do you accept?"

"If you had asked me earlier if I would have accepted. But this is the way of things, isn't it? We both understand that. And we both know that I accept now. So, Clara, Lady, tell me what it is I must do."

The Lady smiled. "I'm glad I'm not old enough you didn't recognize me," she said with a laugh. And with that, she began...

* * *

Catherine and Bran stood in the classroom, where it was just minutes until Daniel would come to snatch her away. Catherine held Michael in her arms.

"You're sure about this?" Bran asked.

She nodded. "I'm not going to give up," she said firmly. "I can take care of him, too. I don't care what anybody says."

Bran grinned and handed her a small wallet. "Put that in a bank," he told her. "To save it. There's some for his education, and some for yours. You should have a better chance than this. And get a nice place, too." She turned to look at him, but was distracted as Daniel suddenly appeared in the middle of the classroom. He went to the door and waited patiently as she backed up into Bran, alarmed.

"Relax," he told her softly. "We're invisible, remember?"

She nodded, not entirely convinced. She wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to the idea of so many people being able to use magic.

The door opened, and she watched as she was pulled inside. He greeted her. Told her to breathe, and a few seconds later, Bran told her it was okay to look again. "I hate that man," she told him with a somewhat relieved grin.

"Put that in your pocket," he told her, indicating the wallet. She obeyed, and when she looked up, she couldn't remember why she was looking at a wall. And her arms were heavy... She looked down and saw a baby. A boy. She knew it was a boy.

"Where'd you come from, hmm?" she asked it. "Oh, well. One of the girls here probably left you, I guess. Don't worry. I'll take care of you. You like the name Michael? I'm a little partial to it, so I'm afraid you're stuck with it." Michael tugged on a piece of her hair. "Yeah. I've got hair. Tug all you want. There's always more."

Bran, invisible, watched her leave the classroom and dropped the invisibility spell and took Eirias out of its scabbard. Things were going smoothly at least.

Catherine walked to the school office, no one taking notice of a high school girl holding a baby. She checked out, and when she got home, found a large amount of money in a wallet in one of her pockets.

* * *

"You're sure you guys want to stay here?" Bran asked.

Will nodded. "It's a whole lot easier to court a girl in medieval times, let me tell you."

"Will!" Jane grinned.

He grinned back. "Well, I'm serious. It makes me unique. Stand out from the other guys. How many of them could ever take you to a genuine ball and feast, hmm? We're living a renaissance festival."

Bran grinned. "Well, Merriman dropped Simon and Barney off in London today. He'll clear things up on that end. Are you-"

"Bran, man. You're a great friend and all but if you ask if we're certain one more time I swear I'll wring your neck."

Bran laughed and nodded. "Right." He took Eirias out again. "Until next time."

"Or maybe sooner," Will said, grinning slightly.

Bran nodded, planning to get the details later. And with a few motions with Eirias, he left and went back to his school, second after Will had walked in with the sword in the first place. He finished cleaning the boards, and then the Pendragon remembered to close the door behind him before he left.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_© 2001. There. Done for now. 3:42. *sigh* Now I can get some sleep. LOL. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, because I've already cooked up an idea for a sequel. I didn't think the "Three from the track" had enough written up about them. And plus, we're in a bit of a third wave here (Wasn't that a TV show?) Anyway, sequel will be coming as soon as I finish "School of American Magic." Thanks for reading this far. LOL! (Laugh out loud= LOL!LOL!) Yep. 3:49 in the morning, and I'm going bonkers. Anyway, see you, and GOOD NIGHT!_


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